How Many Times?
by The Fifth Dimension
Summary: How many times could Alexa say the words 'I love you' in a single day? Becky didn't know the answer, but as a chronic overthinker, she was worried. She was always worried.


**Author's Note: Next part in the 'Need You Now' series, a list of which is found (and now properly formatted to be read by human eyes) on my profile. Takes place chronologically after 'Moments Like This.' **

* * *

_**How Many Times?**_

* * *

There were three things that Becky knew for sure.

The first was the easiest to understand - Alexa was perfection personified. If the gods themselves came down from the heavens and personally built the perfect being from the ground up, it wouldn't even be _half_ as perfect as Alexa is. If Becky could count the number of times she caught herself staring at her girlfriend, taking in her natural beauty while she wasn't looking - heck, even while she was looking - she would need a thousand extra hands.

The second was that she was lucky, and extremely so. Becky didn't know why the universe chose her to win life's greatest lottery, yet she certainly knew that she was the luckiest woman to ever grace the planet. How could she not be? Alexa was dating _her_. Becky - the woman who wrote 'Becky is so cool, yeah?' in Alexa's thesis paper and may-or-may-not have accidentally left it in the final version. Becky - the woman who caused Alexa to miss her cousin's wedding because she forgot to fill their car with gas after a late night quinoa run. That Becky. That was the woman that Alexa chose to date. Of her own free will. Which led Becky to number three.

Alexa always told Becky that she loved her.

Of course Becky was delighted to hear it every single time. Of course she was. Having the love of her life say those three magic words again and again. It was enough to make her heart soar. If she could have it played on a permanent loop - her favorite song set on 'repeat' until her ears couldn't take it - she absolutely would. Sometimes, however, she wondered if it was already stuck on a permanent loop.

"I love you," Alexa would cheerfully shout when she saw Becky after a hard day's work.

"I love you," Alexa would quickly add after an equally brief 'thanks.'

"I love you," Alexa would say whenever Becky entered the room. Or left the room. Or existed _in_ the room.

Okay, so perhaps she was exaggerating, but it seemed like no matter what the circumstance was, what the weather was, what time it was, Alexa was there to remind Becky that she loved her. That was supposed to be a great thing, but lately, as the usage of the three-word phrase increased in frequency tenfold, the Irish woman found herself feeling off about it. It was as if she could feel the meaning being drained from its letters with each passing day. As an entity made entirely of puns and a horrible sense of romance, Becky was worried.

Stupidly so, but still worried.

Finding nothing worthwhile to rot her brain cells with on TV, Becky unceremoniously tossed the remote to the floor. She felt silly, even sillier than her normal variety of Lynch family silly. Why was she so hung up on this? Maybe it was her habitual need to over complicate everything under the sun, or maybe it was her tendency to think too hard about the things that required not a modicum of thought. Or maybe she was actually right this time, and Alexa would grow tired of saying it and then grow tired of _her_ because reasons and-

Becky grumbled. Hit by a sudden tidal wave of restlessness, she flipped herself over on the couch, her head now dangling off of the cushion, legs over the top. Her hair was undoubtedly collecting dust from a carpet that desperately needed a good cleaning, but that was at the bottom of her list of unnecessary worries.

Becky could hear the click of a doorknob, and before she could sit herself upright again, Alexa walked through the front door. "Hey… Everything okay over there, Becks?"

"Uh, hey-a, darling!" Becky frantically greeted, waving her hand as best as she could. It was tremendously more awkward to move her hands upside down than she realized. "This is, well, I'm just, you know."

"Hanging around?" Alexa replied, anticipating the joke that she knew was going to come eventually.

"Too played out. Was thinking more along the lines of, 'gaining a fresh perspective.' Sounds cooler."

Alexa rolled her eyes, an all-too-familiar sight to Becky, before walking over to the couch. "You'll look so cool when the blood rushes to your head and you pass out, dummy." Kneeling down to the floor, she swiftly captured Becky's lips in her own, their difference in position not at all affecting the sweetness of their fleeting kiss. "Not exactly Spider-Man over here," Alexa said once she, reluctantly, pulled away, hints of mock disappointment laden in her voice.

"Yeah well," Becky struggled to pull herself upright, choosing to simply live in her topsy-turvy world until the end of time. "You're not exactly Mary Jane. You're more of a Harley Quinn."

"And don't ya forget it, Red." It was the cheesiest 'New York accent' ever to be attempted by anyone throughout history, but coupled with that wink, it was enough to test the limits of Becky's heart rate. Two-hundred beats per minute wasn't so bad, right? Once she was sure Becky was seated like a human adult, and not a six-year-old on a sugar high, Alexa pat her head, planting a chaste kiss on an unsuspecting cheek. "I'm going to go start dinner. I love you, Becky."

_I love you._

Becky could feel her eyelid twitching at the sound of the dreaded phrase of doom. Whether it was Becky's own insecurities or the newfound rush of blood that sat squarely atop her head, something was gnawing at her brain to talk to Alexa about what she was feeling. It was dumb, but 'dumb' wasn't exactly new for either of them in this relationship.

With all the grace of a fish out of water, flopping and flailing about helplessly, the most uncoordinated woman alive managed to maneuver herself off of their deathtrap of a couch - deathtrap because it was so comfortable, she was sure she would waste away there one day. She noticed that Alexa had already started the cooking process, standing on her tiptoes to remove the dinner plates from the cupboard. Adorable, Becky mused, but she couldn't gawk. Not when feelings needed to be discussed!

"Lexi," Becky called out. She didn't want to make the mistake of tapping Alexa from behind, not while she was holding fragile kitchenware. Not after the last time. Becky winced at the memory of a particularly nasty shard of glass and a poorly calculated step.

Alexa barely turned around, focusing solely on the task at hand. She bent down to check the oven light, her body on full display for Becky's wandering eyes to study like an anatomy textbook.

Well, she supposed she had time to gawk a little.

"Did you need to ask me something, or are you going to stare at my butt all day?"

"Multitasking, thy name is Becky Lynch."

She couldn't see it, but she knew Alexa's face was one of much disappointment. "But seriously, I need to start dinner, so what's up?"

'You're telling me that you love me too much and honestly it's kind of scaring me because what if it loses its meaning and then our whole relationship loses its meaning and you stop loving me altogether? Anyway sorry for bothering you, can't wait for dinner haha!'

Becky shooed that thought away. Good lord, how could she even start this conversation without sounding like a lunatic?

"Okay, so, don't think I'm weird."

"Really, Becks?" Alexa turned to face Becky. "_Now_ is when you're worrying about this? You didn't care if you were weird when you went to go get quinoa at two in the morning. And yes, my cousin is still mad, in case you were wondering."

"That's different!" Becky nearly shouted, raising her arms in protest of these vicious, scandalous, and downright dastardly mentions of her past quinoa addiction. Well, present quinoa addiction. "That was friendship-weird. This is relationship-weird. There's a big difference. Gargantuan. Astronomical."

"I love you, Becky, but dinner."

"Erm, right."

Becky began to bounce around, shifting her weight between one leg and the other. She was so unprepared for this sort of talk. She tried to remember the most important lesson Sasha taught her when they first met. Not the one about how easy it was to make Bayley cry if you hid around a dark corner. No, the _other_ lesson - when there's an issue, it's better rip the Band-Aid off.

"Look, I'm not saying this is a problem, per se," Becky began.

"There's not a bush you won't beat around, huh?"

"I just." Becky took a deep breath, bracing herself to start a conversation that was destined to go south. "I've noticed that you've been saying 'I love you' a lot more recently. And I appreciate it, but I think it's becoming a bit… much?"

Alexa spun around so quickly to put her cooking utensils on the counter that Becky almost jumped out of her skin. When she was finished, Alexa crossed her arms, her lips coming together to form a perfectly pink pout. From the looks of things, the Band-Aid clearly hurt.

"Let me see if I've got this whole thing right," Alexa said. "You're telling me, your girlfriend, that I'm loving you - the other girlfriend in this scenario - a 'bit' too much. Is that what I'm hearing?"

"No! I- Ugh, dammit. I just think you're saying it too much."

"What does that even mean?!"

Her mouth was full of it now. Crow, foot - anything else that didn't belong there. It'd be a miracle if it was full of food when all of this was said and done. "Every time I come in, you say that you love me. I leave, you say that you love me. Give you the remote, pass you the butter. 'I love you, Becky.' Every time."

"I don't say it that much!" If Becky wasn't sweating entire waterfalls, she'd stop to comment on how cute Alexa was when she got upset, stomping her little feet around and pouting that extra adorable pout. She wanted to scoop Alexa up in her arms and shower her with kisses until the irritation was chased off by a boulder of affection.

Unfortunately, Becky was too busy trying to ensure that she'd be eating scraps for dinner, apparently.

"You do."

"I do not."

"It's honestly not that big a deal-"

"You basically said that I love you too much for your liking," Alexa responded, not bothering to hide the bitterness that she spat from her mouth, its corrosive nature wearing down Becky's resolve. "I will try to love you at the appropriate affection levels from now on, Ms. Lynch," she finished robotically.

Great. How the hell did this happen? Becky took a second to reflect. Reflecting was good. She faced her own insecurities in life, but sometimes it was easy to forget that Alexa had some of her own. The blonde was always confident, always taking the first steps both emotionally and physically. Yet, Alexa was only human. If Alexa thought she was doing something wrong in their relationship, it would eat away at her forever. Becky knew, because it would eat away at her too. It _did_.

Alexa wasn't looking at her anymore, but that didn't stop Becky from taking her daintier, more delicate hands in hers. They were clammy, a byproduct of anxiousness and nervousness, a truly deadly pair, but letting go was not an option. Even when frustrated, Alexa wouldn't pull away. Holding hands was as intimate to them as anything. It felt pure, innocent - a sense of unity that only interlacing fingers and thumb strokes across unblemished skin could encapsulate.

"I'm sorry, alright? I guess I worry about this stuff too much."

"But why were you worried in the first place?" Alexa asked, obviously confused.

"It's got so much meaning. 'I love you.' And it's stupid, but I don't want to be one of those couples where 'I love you' becomes just another thing to say. I worry about you saying it now because I don't want you to stop saying it later. I don't want you to stop _meaning_ it later."

Stupid, Becky mentally yelled at herself. So, so stupid. That makes absolutely no sense. Becky couldn't believe that she spoke that garbled mess of English out loud for Alexa to hear. She was the worst, the dirt worst. What an idiotic thing to be worried about.

In the midst verbally abusing herself, Becky felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist.

"Why didn't you say that before?"

Becky released a deep breath. Having Alexa hold her, hands gently rubbing the small of her back, was relaxing in a way that was indescribable. All of her worries, and the crushing anxiety that came along with it, slowly melted away like ice in the summer heat. "It was dumb. It still is dumb."

Alexa tilted her head upwards - only a small amount, but enough to make Becky remember the height difference between them - to look at Becky in her eyes. "It's not. It makes sense. I-"

Becky stared down at Alexa, the confusion now firmly in her corner. The smaller woman looked conflicted, her gaze wistful, as if a memory was resurfacing from the depths of her mind.

"You okay?" Becky asked, concerned.

For a moment, it seemed as though Alexa wasn't going to answer. However, what she responded with wasn't much of an answer anyway. "Let's talk," she said plainly.

"Sure?" Becky allowed herself to be led out of the kitchen by Alexa, her wrist held tightly between Alexa's fingers. "We going on a trip?"

"Yep, to the bedroom."

Becky planted her feet, stopping Alexa from leading her any further. "Not the bedroom!" When Alexa only shook her head in reply - mouthing a, 'I don't even understand like what?' for good measure - Becky saw fit to continue on her soon-to-be tirade.

"The couch is where all of the nice, touchy, kissy conversations happen. The bed," Becky pointed at the bedroom door, the lengthy piece of oak taunting her with its sheer _oakness_. "The bed is where the serious conversations happen, and then I break out in hives. I'll look like a leopard."

"A leopard?"

"Because of al-"

"All the spots, got it," Alexa cut in, finishing Becky's thought for her, fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. "Dumb analogy aside, I promise it's nothing that serious."

Against her better judgment, the Irish woman looked at her girlfriend's face. A horrible, horrible mistake, for now she was at Alexa's mercy, willing to do whatever she and those lovely, perfect features of hers wanted. "Alright, but you're rubbing the cream on my back if it is."

"Gross."

* * *

Again, Becky's stomach gurgled loudly, begging its owner to fill its empty caverns with food. She wanted to relent, to give in to her stomach's desires, but she couldn't. Not yet.

Ten minutes had passed since they went into their room. Having chats in their bedroom, behind a closed door, was practically a tradition. It felt safe, and despite being the only two that lived there, it made everything feel private, like anything they conversed about became trapped within the walls, never to escape the confines of the room. It was something they started back in their old apartment, albeit with much thinner walls and much noisier neighbors. It was for this sense of protection that Alexa chose to have these talks here.

'Talk' being the operative word.

How was it possible for a bed to be _this_ uncomfortable, Becky questioned. If she didn't start stretching soon, her back was going to explode from all of the sitting and the nothing she was doing. Becky wanted to give Alexa time to talk, but she wasn't saying anything, choosing to fiddle with her golden locks rather than say words of any kind. If that same curl found its way around Alexa's index finger one more time, Becky was going to rip it off. The hair or the finger, she wasn't sure.

"You're going to get your finger tangled."

"Huh?"

Becky groaned. She couldn't help it.

"I'm trying to give you time to think this out, but my ass is starting to get sore, darling."

She jiggled around on the bed for emphasis, trying to relieve the pain from her aching bottom. Becky was sure there was a spring loose somewhere in their mattress. Beds and butts shouldn't be this averse to each other's presence. They should be able to coexist in harmony.

"Sorry, you're right."

With bated breath, Becky waited. The suspense was the worst part. The second worst part was the aforementioned butt-bed blood feud currently taking place.

"You know that guy from work I always complain about?"

"You mean Douchey David? The guy that always hit on you? Whatever happened to him?"

"He died a few weeks ago."

Becky nearly choked on her own spit, coughing up whatever sat at the back of her throat. "I thought you said this wasn't going to be anything serious!" She scurried to the floor, kneeling by the edge of the bed, palms _smack_ing together. "Hey, Dead David? If you're up there, I'm sorry for calling you a douche, ya little weirdo."

"Would you stop?" Alexa said, Becky's antics becoming too grating for her liking. "You hated the guy."

"Hey, he's the one that called you 'five feet of fuc-'"

"We don't need to relive this."

Becky wasn't sure what the right word was to describe exactly how she was feeling. Conflicted? Yes, conflicted was a good one. The man in question was a colossal creep - a snake that HR should have dealt with ages ago. How he managed to slither past them at every opportunity was beyond her understanding. Still, he didn't deserve to die. That was far too extreme, even if he did make rude remarks to her lover.

She wasn't sure why this would have an affect on Alexa though. Not that death wasn't scary, but it wasn't as if it were a family member, or a friend, or even a passing acquaintance. Rather than travel on this train of cynicism, she decided to sit in silence after climbing back onto the bed. The springy, literal pain-in-the-butt bed.

"The guy made working so uncomfortable. Just looking at his stupid face always made me angry. Then, one day, he was gone. It's so crazy to think about, you know? Like, you go down this rabbit hole of thoughts."

"Regular old, 'Alice in Wonderland, aren't ya?"

"I've totally got the hair for it too."

Alexa made a point of swinging her head, her hair swaying to and fro. Becky smiled knowing that she was able to lighten the mood, if only momentarily.

When she noticed the crestfallen look return to Alexa's face uninvited, she decided that this distance between them needed to be closed, now. Without warning, she took hold of Alexa's shoulders, pulling her closer. Alexa looked at her, confused, but unable to contain the joy that being this close always brought her. The feeling never grew old - holding Alexa in her arms, her tiny frame shuddering despite having felt every inch of Becky's body anyway. Alexa's fingers toyed with the fabric of her shirt, desperate to graze Becky's waiting skin beneath its cotton prison. Becky's own fingers traced over Alexa's neck, satisfying their collective need to just touch one another.

"Tell me what you were thinking about, darling."

Her voice was nearly quivering. Having Alexa like this always did that to her. It made her react in different ways. It made her want to take every ounce of good in the world and give it to Alexa. Becky scoffed at the thought. Impossible - all of the good in the world was in her arms.

"Did anyone tell him goodbye?"

"Huh?"

"That's what I was thinking about," Alexa clarified. "He was a douche."

"Douchey David."

"Douchey David, but people still cared about him. Did they get to say goodbye to him? Did the people that loved him get to tell him that they did? It made me think about how short life is. Any goodbye could be the last. Any 'I love you,' could be the last. What if the last 'I love you' when I walked in _was_ the last? I love you every second of every day, so why wouldn't I tell you every second of every day? It made sense in my head. I might have went overboard, and I'm sorry, but I just always want you to know."

Alexa paused, and Becky wasn't sure if she was supposed to interject. So that's what it was, she thought. Scared - Alexa was scared. Scared to lose her, or scared that she would. She was right, any goodbye could be the last, but she was more shaken up than Becky would've imagined.

"I get it. I mean, kind of," Becky admitted, bashfully. "I was afraid of losing you-"

"Not gonna happen."

"-but really you've been afraid of losing me."

Hopelessly embarrassed, Alexa buried her face deeper into Becky's chest, but Becky pushed back on her shoulders, forcing her away. She placed a hand under Alexa's chin, a caress with her thumb forcing out an audible moan of pleasure. Barely audible, but a sweet symphony to Becky's ears nonetheless.

"You don't have to be embarrassed. I understand where you're coming from. You are pretty pessimistic, though," Becky added, jokingly.

"What is it with you and ruining the tender moments?"

"You're never going to lose me."

"That's not how life works."

"Yeah, well, I don't know if you've noticed but," Becky leaned over to whisper into Alexa's ear, the heat of her breath causing the woman to shiver uncontrollably. "I don't exactly play by life's rules."

The orange-haired woman didn't have the chance to pull back before she felt arms wrap around her neck. Before she could register what was happening, her vision was engulfed by the sight of Alexa's face crashing into hers. It took less than a single second for Becky to return the kiss, her own hands settling on smooth shoulders. When a pink muscle knocked on the door to her lips, she happily let it in, her own tongue meeting it at the entrance. It was the only workout she didn't mind doing every second of every day.

Alexa's hands found themselves deep in orange curls, and Becky suppressed the urge to groan loudly. She never was good at keeping her emotions in check, not like this, so the groans came in spite of herself, creating a chain reaction as Alexa groaned loudly in response. Energy, so much raw energy, was coursing through Becky's veins. Her hands trembled when they found themselves squeezing thighs - squeezing legs, squeezing arms, squeezing anything the could touch. She was losing herself, like she did every night.

Suddenly, as if a storm of cold rain swept through their bedroom, Alexa broke the kiss.

"We can't keep skipping dinner like this, Becks."

"Lexi," Becky whined. This time, her groans were for another reason entirely.

"The sooner we eat, the sooner we pick up where we left off. And trust me, I'm not done with you."

"Fine, fine."

"I love you, Becky."

Becky chuckled. Of course she did. She always told her, after all.

"I know you do. I'll never forget it, whether you tell me a dozen, or a million times."

Alexa smiled, before hopping off of the bed. As she was about to leave, Becky called out to her.

"I love you, Lexi."

Maybe, just maybe, saying 'I love you' at every opportunity was something Becky could get behind - her favorite song on repeat.


End file.
